


Documents and Donuts (Alternately: Coulson The Super Hot Librarian)

by CharlieBradbury



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, I blame Chuui, M/M, Thundernanny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieBradbury/pseuds/CharlieBradbury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor shifts his weight awkwardly.  “I’m sure you have something more important to do with your time.”</p><p>Coulson just smiles gently up at him and says with sincerity, “What could be more important than assisting a student?  If you’re truly worried about wasting my time, start talking.  The longer you stall the longer I’ll sit here.”</p><p>Thor barks out a laugh, making the corners of Coulson’s mouth tilt up even more.  “I apologize, I’ve just never been taken seriously as an academic student.”  He puts his bag on the table, folding his massive frame into one of the chairs carefully.  “Being here on an athletic scholarship tends to encourage people to make their own assumptions about my intelligence.”</p><p>“I try not to assume things until I have proper evidence to back it up,” Coulson says pleasantly.  “So, what book is the paper on?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Documents and Donuts (Alternately: Coulson The Super Hot Librarian)

It’s quiet.

But it’s a library, so that’s to be expected.

Thor really dislikes the quiet.

Not to say that he dislikes peace. Peace is wonderful, when it comes. And it comes so rarely since he graduated high school, moved across an ocean for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and left his family and friends behind him. He blinks harshly down at the keyboard, chiding himself for getting off-task. Again. He purposefully positions his fingers over the keys (greasy and far too small for his stupidly huge hands) and glares at the monitor and the blank document open as if daring it to distract him. After a few seconds of sitting there ridiculously, Thor heaves a sigh and lets his fingers slam into the keyboard and produce a string of gibberish.

“You all right, buddy?” Steve asks from his right.

Hastily backspacing, Thor whispers back, “Yes, yes. How are you doing?”

“Almost done. Have-you haven’t written anything? We’ve been here almost an hour.” Thor shrugs carelessly, as if he was just waiting for inspiration. Steve huffs a breath, seeing right through him. English is Thor’s second language, and at times it’s difficult for him to write down his thoughts into a cohesive paper. It’s frustrating, especially since Thor enjoyed the book they were writing for so very much. Steve saves his paper and takes his USB drive out of the computer. “Be back in a second.”

Thor nods and pulls the novel out of his bag, flipping through the dog-eared pages. He gets lost rereading a section, full of conflict and resolution. He really does like the story, understands the themes and symbolism perfectly. His blue eyes flicker back up to the computer screen, to the tiny blinking cursor. He scowls and closes the book with a snap. He’s grown too restless now, he’ll never write anything at this rate. Exiting the programs and logging out of the network, he stands and gathers his bag.

“Going somewhere?” he hears from behind him. Thor turns and finds an older, shorter man in a well-fitted navy blue suit looking up at him with curiosity. “I’m Phil Coulson, head librarian. Rogers said you need some help with a paper.”

Surprised, Thor whips his head to the exit, watching as Steve strides out and throws a thumbs-up over a shoulder. Feeling a little betrayed, Thor clears his throat. “I believe my friend was mistaken. I don’t-”

“Come with me,” Coulson says, turning sharply and heading towards the reference section. “We can discuss it somewhere we won’t bother anyone else.”

Thor looks around and finds a few other students staring at him angrily. Averting his eyes, he follows the librarian. He has been told many times that his voice tends to carry, no matter how quiet he tries to make it. Coming around a corner, he sees Coulson slip into a doorway. Thor had never noticed a room back here, but of course it would be a librarian’s place to know about any and all hidden spaces in his domain.

Pulling the door closed behind him, Thor notices that this room is small but not tiny, with a single long table and several padded chairs in the middle of the space. A projector hangs from the ceiling, and Thor notes that there aren’t any windows or any obvious cameras (Clint taught him how to spot even the most cleverly hidden recording devices ages ago). Coulson leans against the table, crossing his arms and leveling a considering look at Thor.

“So how can I help?”

Scratching the back of his neck, Thor chuckles. “I’m not sure. I don’t require help; I just find the silence of a library a bit…distracting.”

“The silence is distracting?”

“Yes. I know it sounds-“

“No, it makes sense,” Coulson interrupts smoothly. “Not everyone can learn or do work with nothing happening around them. It’s perfectly all right.” His hazel eyes dart along Thor’s muscled frame, taking in the way he stands straight, with a hand fisted around the strap of his messenger bag. “Is it the writing that you have difficulty with? Or coming up with what to write?”

Thor cocks his head slightly to the right. “Are they not the same thing?”

“Do you have things you want to write about, or no idea what to write?”

Thor frowns, fearing that this obviously intelligent man finds him stupid. “I understand the assignment, and the material. It’s…I suppose it’s the actual writing that I have trouble with.”

Coulson nods shortly. “Well, how do you feel about just talking about it? Sometimes people who have a hard time putting their thoughts on paper find it simpler to record themselves discussing it with friends or other students. You can construct an outline from that or even your whole paper.”

Thor chuckles lowly. “I haven’t talked about the book, outside of class. But I do find conversations easier to have than writing a paper.”

Coulson just nods again. “So, tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The book or the paper, whichever.” He slides into a chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He waves at another chair. “Whichever you feel comfortable talking about. I assume you have a cell phone, most of them have voice recording functions.”

Thor shifts his weight awkwardly. “I’m sure you have something more important to do with your time.”

Coulson just smiles gently up at him and says with sincerity, “What could be more important than assisting a student? If you’re truly worried about wasting my time, start talking. The longer you stall the longer I’ll sit here.”

Thor barks out a laugh, making the corners of Coulson’s mouth tilt up even more. “I apologize, I’ve just never been taken seriously as an academic student.” He puts his bag on the table, folding his massive frame into one of the chairs carefully. “Being here on an athletic scholarship tends to encourage people to make their own assumptions about my intelligence.”

“I try not to assume things until I have proper evidence to back it up,” Coulson says pleasantly. “So, what book is the paper on?”

Thor flicks open his cell phone, searching for something that would record sound in the many menus, and begins speaking.

\----

“So how’d it go?”

Thor freezes in the doorway of his and Steve’s dorm, one boot almost pried off of a foot. Steve grins at him from the couch, where he sits surrounded by a sketchbook, a textbook, his laptop, and a box of crackers. “I’m sorry?”

“Mr. Coulson helped Clint out a lot last year,” Steve says simply. “I figure anyone who can help that guy pass English with a B knows what he’s doing.”

Thor chuckles as he pulls his other shoe off. “Did I seem to be in such desperate need?”

Last year, Steve would have gotten flustered and insisted that no, he doesn’t think Thor was stupid or something like that. Today, Steve just snorts and snarks, “Desperate maybe. I’ve seen the way you look at him from across the library.”

Thor laughs and drops his bag on the table. “I believe you’ve mistaken me for Stark, and Coulson for Banner.”

“Or Janet, depending on which class it is.” Thor laughs louder, reaching for the fridge. He doesn’t let on that it troubles him how his roommate noticed his occasional glances to the shapely form of their librarian. At least Steve wasn’t there to see how easily the two of them fell into conversation about Thor’s paper, how Thor held himself back from clasping his hand over the older man’s wrist when they were expounding on some point. He’d fallen into some trouble before by just doing as he pleased before. Now, he knew, he’d need permission before touching Coulson in the manner that he wanted.

And how dearly he wanted that permission would fuel him for quite some time.

\----

“Odinson,” Thor hears behind him, as he’s become accustomed to over the past month. He turns and offers Coulson a welcoming smile. From their seats at his table, Thor’s friends glance up at the librarian looking coolly down on their comrade. “I have a meeting at two with Hill, if you need me.”

“Then I’ll meet you in the conference room in a few minutes, thank you.” Coulson’s smile widens briefly before he walks out of the cafeteria. Thor shovels what’s left of his lunch into his mouth before getting up and grabbing his bag. He becomes aware of how quiet his usually rambunctious table is after a moment, and spares them a look. They’re all staring at him in disbelief. “What?” he asks shortly.

“Oh, nothing!” Tony says loudly, throwing his hands up as if in surrender. His leering smirk suggests otherwise.

“Was that the hot librarian dude?” Darcy asks around her mouthful of pizza. “He can reshelf my books all night long!”

Bruce is too busy silently laughing to offer a comment.

“Hot librarian? What?” Hank hisses from where he leans over his textbook.

“Steve was right,” Carol states softly. Thor fixes her with his full attention, but she just shrugs. “He said you’d found a tutor.”

“A tutor? That’s all?” Thor presses.

She leans back in the plastic chair, her eyes amused. “Yep,” she says, popping the ‘P’ loudly.

“Of course. I’ll see you all later,” he says shortly, leaving his nosy friends behind him. As he comes around a corner, out of sight of his friends, he spies Coulson standing beside the stairwell that leads to the library. He stops leaning against the wall as Thor approaches, clasping his right wrist in his left hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how a staff member approaching you while you were at lunch with your friends would look to them.” Thor stops in his tracks, looking down upon the other man who for once seems out of place. “It was inappropriate and I apologize.”

“Oh, there’s no need,” Thor says genuinely. “You could have been my aunt and they would have made their jokes. It’s just how they are.”

“Perhaps,” Coulson says, a twinkle of merriment in his eyes. “Either way, I want you to have my cell phone number, so you can let me know when you’re available.” He offers a small slip of paper to Thor, who lets his fingertips drag over Coulson’s as he takes it. Coulson’s face doesn’t change a bit, Thor notes, but he doesn’t yank his hand away either. He also notes how warm and firm the hand under his is, but he tucks this information away in the back of his mind.

“I’ll text you later, so you will have my number as well,” Thor promises. Coulson just gives him another bland smile before leading the way up the usual stairway. This time, Coulson holds open the door to the usual conference room, and stands back to let Thor through. Thor feels how closely the other man stands after he crosses the threshold, and on a whim, he stands there a bit longer than he needs too. A warmth passes over his back, but uncertainty grips him and he steps forward. Sitting down in his chair, he pulls out his cell and begins fiddling with the options determinedly. Coulson crosses the room at his normal pace and sits down as if nothing happened.

And maybe nothing did. Maybe Thor imagines all the tension, all the flirting.

As they finish up, and Thor goes to walk out, he feels Coulson standing a bit closer than is necessary. He turns to look over his shoulder, and finds Coulson’s usually cold eyes curious and heated. He draws in a breath to say or ask something, but some girls giggling loudly just outside of the partially opened door break whatever spell they’d fallen into. Coulson’s eyes refocus and glance away. Thor decides not to comment and walks out the door. He could still be misreading things. He wants to be sure.

\----

One Saturday night, after the usual party at Tony’s, Thor makes his way across the college courtyard. Spring is approaching, but winter still sends sharp breezes between the tall school buildings. The student center door opens, and Thor feels his face split into a huge grin as he recognizes Phil Coulson pulling his coat tighter around his body. “Mr. Coulson,” he calls out softly.

Turning quickly, he gives Thor a smile of his own. “Please, Phil’s fine. I’m off the clock. How are you doing tonight, Thor?”

“I’m well. Why are you here so late?”

Coulson-Phil shrugs shortly. “I’ve been accused of being a workaholic. We had a department meeting and I stuck around after to do some paperwork, since I was here.”

“Ah. It’s very good of you to be so devoted,” Thor says easily.

Glancing at him, Phil smirks. “Have you been drinking?”

Thor chuckles. “I was at a Tony Stark party, of course I’ve been drinking.” Phil laughs loudly. “I’m of age, so no need to worry.” 

“Here or in Denmark?”

Thor smiles innocently. “One of those, yes.”

Phil shakes his head, his smile fond. “Bit early to be leaving one of Stark’s shindigs.”

“I have work in the morning, I had to leave before someone badgered me into yet another gaming tournament.” Phil makes a quiet noise of understanding. Silence falls between them as they walk together towards the parking garage. “My dorm is this way. I’ll see you next week.” Thor goes to turn down the sidewalk, but stops as Phil’s voice calls out to him suddenly.

“Could I drive you?” Thor looks back to him, finding uncertainty in the older man’s eyes. “Offer you. A ride,” he amends with an even voice.

“It’s a mere six blocks.”

“Right,” Phil says, nodding his chin sharply down. “Be safe,” he says after a pause.

Thor watches him walk away, and finds his mouth moving before he can stop it. “But it is late.” Phil turns to fix him with a questioning look. “And cold.”

“Well, let’s go then. It’s past my bedtime.” They make small talk as they come into the parking garage and climb into the cold interior of Phil’s modest car. The small talk gives way to Phil recounting a story about his school days and a humorous instance involving some donuts, a snow globe from New Mexico, and a bag of flour as he drives carefully down the street. “I told her I couldn’t decide and paid for both packs and went to fill up the car.”

Thor laughs heartily. “Your friends were none the wiser?”

“I’m sure Hill and Fury knew, but Sitwell and Connors never found out,” Phil answers with a fond smirk.

“I admit, it is most strange to imagine the Dean and the other faculty members as young miscreants.”

Phil just smiles secretively and says, “You’d never believe half the things we got into in high school then.” He adjusts the heater, asking, “You’re not cold?”

“No, I’m used to much more frigid weather.” Phil nods, turning the heating down slightly. “It’s here.” Pulling over perfectly, Phil bids him goodnight. Lingering a moment after unbuckling his seat belt, Thor looks upon him with intrigue. “Do you make it a habit to offer students you tutor rides home?”

“I make it a habit to help people. Especially people I like but I try not to discriminate.” Thor chuckles lowly, before stopping short. Staring at Phil’s face- amused, and curious-he feels his torso twisting over the center console, and sees that Phil doesn’t look surprised or pull away. Phil’s hazel eyes slide away from Thor’s, and Thor feels that foreign sensation of doubt snake through his body.

“It’s good to know that you don’t dislike me,” he says quietly. “Goodnight, Phil.”

“You too, Thor,” he barely hears as he steps out of the car.

\----

“Donuts,” Thor hears from above him. The sunlight dappling down on him blinds him momentarily as he looks up to the tree branches. A warm day has found him sitting out in the lawn, a notebook on one knee and a sub on the other.

“Barton?” he asks certainly.

The dry chuckle answering him tells him he was right about who is taunting him from the tree trunk. “He likes donuts. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I’m pretty sure it’d get you in his pants too.”

“I hear it’s rude to carry on a conversation with someone who hasn’t an idea what you’re talking about,” Thor mentions lightly before taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Coulson, man! You’ve got it bad.” Clint dangles from a high branch by his fingertips, grinning down at his friend. “I should know, I caught that bug last year.”

“You are not making sense. At all,” Thor says tersely.

Laughing, Clint drops shortly, landing on the thick branch beneath him. “Coulson. He likes donuts. Powdered or chocolate coated, he likes either.”

“I’m aware,” Thor mutters absently.

“Oh,” Clint breathes significantly. Slipping from where he sits, he catches a branch with his knees and flips once in the air. He lands solidly on the grass, before flopping down on his butt. “You already heard the snow globe story?” Thor, with his mouth full, just nods. “I didn’t hear that story until a week before my final. You might actually have a chance, dude.” Continuing to chew, Thor just shoots him a look that asks him to keep talking. “All right, so I had the hots for the guy for a while before Steve suggested I ask him for some help. Well, not so much as suggest as threw him and I into an elevator together. Almost decked the guy a couple of times, but then my grades started getting better.”

“You almost assaulted him?”

“It was freshman year,” Clint says shortly, as if that should explain all. For Thor, it does. Stealing a chip from the bag beside his friend’s leg, Clint continues. “Anyway, long story short, I tried to jump him and he politely declined.”

Not bothering to feign mere curiosity in a friend’s story, Thor asks eagerly, “Was it the age difference, or that you were a student of the school that he works for?”

“Nah. Just said that he didn’t feel that way about me. And asked me to put my pants back on.” Angling his eyebrows up, Thor fights the urge to laugh. “Shut up, I’m very bangable.”

“Bangable?” Thor laughs.

“Yeah, just ask your brother,” Clint shoots back, waggling his eyebrows. Thor thumps Clint in the shoulder, sending him on his back. They both laugh a little, before Clint says, “So if you’ve already been deemed worthy of the snow globe story, I’d say you have a fair shot. At y’know, getting with him.”

“How can I be certain?” Thor asks, closing the notebook with a snap. “After the fiasco with Jane, I’ve been wary of moving forward without being sure of the situation.”

Clint snorts. “Well, in my opinion you should just do like you usually do. Leap first and look later. It’s your style, and with Coulson you definitely need to be yourself. Coulson’s not open to dallying around or fraud.” Thor just crumples the sandwich wrapper, stalling. “I know shit went downhill with Jane, and Darcy and Loki fucked that up for you, but you’re…you’re you. You’re one of those annoying optimists that keeps on no matter what.”

“But how do I know he feels the same?” Thor bursts. “I just…assurance that he is interested would be appreciated.”

Clint hums thoughtfully, snagging more chips. “Welp, you could pull a ‘naked man.’”

“Clint!” Thor laughs. “How?”

“You guys always meet in the same room? Just show up early, drape yourself along the table in your birthday suit, see what happens.”

“As much as I appreciate your advice, I find it impractical.”

Clint gestures wildly with a free hand. “No, no, wait! Half-naked man! Show up after a jog around campus, and start changing shirts before Coulson walks in. You should be able to tell if he’s interested or not from that.”

“That is a terrible idea.”

“You got anything better?” Thor shrugs. “All right then.” He drinks slowly from his water bottle, thinking deeply.

\----

“Sorry, Hill needed me to verify-oh, sorry.” Thor looks up from his bag where he’d been digging for his spare shirt for the past few minutes.

“Don’t apologize, Mr. Coulson,” Thor says easily. “I was jogging earlier, I’d like to change shirts before we begin.”

“Of course,” Coulson mumbles quietly. Thor watches him drag his gaze from his exposed front to the far wall. He fights down a victorious grin as he pulls a clean shirt over his head.

Let it never be said that all of Clint Barton’s ideas were truly terrible.

\----

Spring break finds Thor working more at the university research lab job than not. Practically everyone else is off-campus, leaving him as one of few people who can work. One long day finds him trudging from one of the on-campus labs in exhaustion, but his tired feet tip him towards the library. An older lady that Thor knows to be Sitwell’s mother sits behind the counter, completely absorbed in her crocheting. She doesn’t notice as Thor trudges slowly towards the reference section.

Thor doesn’t know why, but he finds himself in the ‘usual’ conference room, door locked behind him as he collapses into his chair (and surely it is his chair for all the times before that his has slumped into its meager cushions). His head lolls back and his eyes close. He listens to the silence, hearing the faint electronic hum of the building around him. The elevator adjacent to the library shudders and groans into life. Laughter seems to seep from the floor below him. All of it, all of this activity hidden in what most would perceive as silence, just makes Thor think of how much he wishes Coulson was here right now.

No. Not Coulson.

Phil. As he’d appeared that singular night, offering a ride and looking so vulnerable. So open and so reciprocal to whatever Thor said. Stroking a heavy hand down his own torso, Thor wonders what would have happened if he’d carried through with his urge to kiss Phil in his car. Perhaps if they’d carried on, they could have managed to make their way to Thor’s bed, somehow. And Thor could have dragged his work-roughened fingers along Phil’s firm stomach and ribs. Maybe scratched his blunt nails along his defined jaw line up to Phil’s beautifully curved lips. Pried them gently open and insinuated the pad of a finger against his tongue-

Thor’s right hand has slipped under the waistband of his pants at this point. He never would insult someone with such a base human activity, not without their knowledge. But as his fingers wrap around his manhood, Thor would be lying if he said that the hazel tone of Phil’s eyes didn’t taint his fantasies. Rough moans slip past his lips as he keeps touching himself, pace speeding and brow sweating.

After he’s made a mess of himself and the underside of the conference table, Thor groans loud and long in exasperation. It was just another thing to credit to Clint.

Thor definitely ‘had it bad.’

\----

“Romanov, did Brand call back?” Coulson asks as he strides purposefully into the faculty room. 

“Yes, she says the schedule you gave her is satisfactory,” Natasha answers without looking up from her computer. “Also, you had a visitor. He left something for you on your desk.”

Coulson’s brow furrows in confusion. He makes his way to his office, finding two packages of donuts and a note on his immaculate desk. “I thought I told you not to let Barton in here under any circumstance.”

“Good thing it wasn’t Clint, then,” she replies shortly. “He was taller, blonder, louder…” she trails off, a barely audible amused tone to her voice. Coulson’s brow smoothes out at the thought of Thor bringing him his favorite terrible-for-you snack. Natasha watches him from the reflection in her monitor, a sly smirk stealing its way across her features. She turns in her seat to observe unnoticed as Coulson picks up the letter, shoulders tense with apprehension. They then start to shake with silent laughter, his whole frame relaxing as he goes around his desk to put the note in a drawer. His face is back to its usual bland expression, but his eyes glint with happiness. Natasha schools her own face back to a neutral state before standing and leaning against the doorway to Phil’s office.

“Yes?”

“You’re attracted to him.” He just looks up at her with a perfect poker face. “No one could blame you. Even if the body of a god doesn’t do it for you, his kind and compassionate nature would make him hard to resist.”

“If you think he’s so desirable, why don’t you date him?”

“Too sweet for me,” she retorts. “I need someone with less ‘kicked puppy’ and more spice. You however, practically swooned when you found out he’d brought you your discount pastries.”

Phil spares her a terse smile. “Don’t you have work to do, Miss Romanov?”

“I could say the same for you.” She spins gracefully back around with a single stiletto heel in the abused carpet. “Stop torturing him and just tell him you’re interested. I don’t like seeing my friends pining after people. It gets annoying.”

Phil puts both packs of donuts to the side of his desk while saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is there any coffee left?” He hears her weary sigh, the weight of it screaming of the idiocy of men.

\----

Phil has barely entered the meeting room before he hears thundering footsteps outside. Followed by a high pitched shout, a small thud, and what can only be Thor’s voice loudly apologizing. Phil shakes his head and leans against the table edge. A few seconds later, Thor bursts through the door red-faced and smiling. “Coulson! I received my graded paper today!”

“And how’d you do?”

Thor crosses the short space, pulling out a crumpled stapled set of papers and handing them to him. Coulson smiles proudly as Thor says, “A 92! The highest grade I’ve ever received for a paper. It’s all thanks to you.” He ducks his head and plants a short kiss on Phil’s lips, before continuing. “Your techniques have helped immensely and I hope you’d be willing to assist me further this semester. Ah, just until I feel confident writing essays on my own.”

“Oh, I’m up for that, definitely. Thor?” The young man grins down at him happily. “You just kissed me.”

“I…yes.” His smile falls off his face and he blinks in confusion. “I did. Oh. I’m sorry I was just excited about the grade. My friends say I’m overly affectionate, I apologize-“

“Thor, it’s all right,” Phil says, raising his hand and interrupting Thor’s babbling. “It was just a friendly kiss? Celebratory?”

Nodding emphatically, Thor agrees. “Yes, yes. That’s all.” He takes his paper back from Phil, stuffing it in his messenger bag and keeping his eyes angled towards the floor. “I am sorry.”

“Well, I’m not.” Thor’s head snaps up, eyes hopeful. “I’m giving you a chance right now. If it was just a platonic kiss, no pressure. Walk out and we’ll just acknowledge that it was a misunderstanding-“

Thor silences him with another kiss, lingering and enjoying the sure way that Phil’s mouth moves against him. Gliding a hand up Thor’s forearm, Phil grips the thick muscles of his shoulder, pulling him closer. Thor breaks away a little, breathing deep and leaning his forehead against Phil’s. “Thank you. For giving me a chance.”

Phil strokes his thumb along Thor’s scruffy jawline, humming happily. “Anytime.” They chuckle together, smiling into their next kiss. And the one after that.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Chuui for everything. But this is probably the fluffiest damn thing I've ever written. Thundernanny tends to do that to me.


End file.
